


the road not taken (looks real good now)

by lesmiserablol



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Arguing, Asexual Zuko (Avatar), Breaking Up & Making Up, Getting Back Together, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Miscommunication, Post-Break Up
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-23
Updated: 2021-01-23
Packaged: 2021-03-15 17:20:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,024
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28942110
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lesmiserablol/pseuds/lesmiserablol
Summary: We broke up over a year ago why did i just find out you still play pai sho with uncleBefore Zuko can begin to overthink it, his phone vibrates with a new message and his heart jumps in his throat as he fumbles to open it.real pai sho players know that just because you lost a fire lily doesn’t mean you need to give up on a white lotus(or, Zuko and Sokka see each other for the first time since their break up)
Relationships: Sokka/Zuko (Avatar)
Comments: 90
Kudos: 580





	the road not taken (looks real good now)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [hiraethia](https://archiveofourown.org/users/hiraethia/gifts).



> I have been wanting to write a post break up fic for *ages* and then the lovely hi-raethia posted [this amazing art](https://hi-raethia.tumblr.com/post/640853848617091072/so-anyway-thats-the-story-of-how-they-got-back) and it finally gave me the inspiration I needed to get it done. Thank you Kai for sharing your talent with us!!! I hope you like this!!

Zuko’s face breaks into an easy smile as soon as he spots his uncle in the airport, walking faster to greet him with a hug. The last time they saw each other was when Iroh flew down to visit him a few months ago, but that was still too long to be apart, in Zuko’s opinion.

“Welcome home, my nephew,” Iroh says, voice thick with emotion as he holds Zuko tightly. 

“Thank you, Uncle,” Zuko responds. He’s bent over in a slightly awkward position to wrap his arms around Iroh, but he hugs back just as tight for a few moments before finally pulling away. “I didn’t expect you to be waiting in here for me, I almost walked straight past you to the parking lot.”

Iroh smiles, a twinkle in his eye. “That was my plan, originally. But someone else had a different idea.”

Zuko opens his mouth to ask what he’s talking about when he feels a tap on his shoulder and turns on his heel, jaw dropping. 

“You told me you wouldn’t be here til Sunday!” he nearly shouts, making a passing couple glance over curiously, but he ignores them and throws his arms around his sister, who is laughing openly at him.

“Well, I may have bent the truth a little,” Azula admits, still laughing into his shoulder as she hugs him back. “Good to see you, Zuzu.”

Zuko lets go of her immediately, groaning. “And here I thought I was happy to see you. I take it all back.”

“Ouch!” Azula punches his arm. “You better watch it, we’re stuck together for the next three weeks.”

“I don’t know, I think I saw the screens say there’s a flight to Sacramento leaving tomorrow morning, it’s not too late to buy a ticket,” Zuko muses, looking around the airport, but he can’t hide the grin on his face. The last time he saw Azula was a year ago when their mother invited them to visit her, her new husband, and their daughter in Japan for winter vacation. And the time before that—

_ “What are you doing here?” Zuko asked, pulling away from his sister’s hug. _

_ “What do you think? Uncle is worried about you, he wanted to make sure you were doing okay. I needed a break from New York anyway.” _

_ Zuko gave her a flat look. “I’m fine, Azula.” _

_ She mirrored his expression, unimpressed. “You know, it’s okay if you aren’t. You two were together for like three years.” _

_ “Two years, ten months, and three weeks,” Zuko corrected. _

_ Azula’s face screamed I Told You So, but then it softened. “Uncle wasn’t the only one worried about you. Come on, no break up is complete without a ridiculous amount of ice cream. Gunther's better live up to your raving reviews.” _

Iroh is watching his niece and nephew with a large smile, and Azula is the first to notice the tears in his eyes.

“Oh no, we better get going, I am  _ not  _ going to stand here while you cry and then make  _ Zuko  _ cry in the middle of the Anchorage airport. Not again." She shakes her head. Zuko wants to argue, insisting that crying while saying goodbye is different from the happy tears of being reunited, but he drops it when she grabs his suitcase from him and starts wheeling it out of the airport.

(He offers a quick glance over his shoulder at the statue of the moose, the same one in the background of the last picture he took with Sokka, then starts to follow.)

“Forgive me, it’s just such a blessing to have you both back home,” Iroh chuckles softly. “It has been far too long.”

“Don’t worry, you two can reminisce over a cup of tea like the old ladies you are when we get home,” Azula tells him. 

As soon as they step into the December air, Zuko lets out a surprised noise and hugs his carry-on bag closer to him, making his sister laugh.

“Oh no, don’t tell me being away from home has weakened your resistance to the cold?” 

“I never had any to begin with,” he tells her through chattering teeth. 

It’s only five in the evening, but the sun set hours earlier, leaving behind a freezing cold night. One of the many benefits of living in California is that his breath never fogs up like it is doing now as it makes contact with the chilly air.

_ “The summers there are so hot!” Sokka whined, flopping onto Zuko’s bed where he had been making an attempt to pack. It was his fault for inviting Sokka over to help him, he’s not sure what else he really expected. _

_ “That will just make going to the beach more pleasant.” _

_ “We have beaches here, you know. And they’re better than Sacramento because you don’t have to drive so long to reach them.” _

_ Zuko rolled his eyes, walking over to press a kiss on his boyfriend’s exaggerated pout. “How about this, one day you can come see the beaches for yourself and see how they compare?” _

_ “Okay," Sokka said. “But I still want you to pick out some seashells for me, like you promised!” _

_ “Of course, babe.” _

The car is warmed up by the time they are out of the parking lot, which Zuko is grateful for. Azula let him sit in the front seat, and he enjoys her charity toward him while it lasts, his hands cupping around the vents blasting hot air.

He stares out the window the whole drive home, asking Azula about her school in New York and Iroh about his teashop. They already talk frequently enough that he knows most of what they tell him (seriously, whoever taught Iroh how to use FaceTime must have the patience of an angel, and it paid off), but it’s nice catching up with them anyway.

He finds himself zoning out of the conversation more than once, but they don’t mention it. They probably assume he’s just tired from traveling, which is partially true, but he’s mainly focused on the familiar sights that they drive by. The high school where he met Sokka. The building where they held senior prom. The best place to find the jerky Sokka was always talking about. The community college they went to together after they graduated.

The side road he pulled off onto to answer the phone from the lawyer, telling him and Azula when their father’s court date was.

“Home sweet home,” Iroh says several minutes later as he pulls into the driveway. Zuko blinks and realizes it’s starting to snow. By the time he has undone his seatbelt and stepped out of the car, he has resigned himself to shoveling the sidewalks in the morning.

Azula complains about how heavy Zuko’s suitcase is as she carries it up the steps to the house (“Be careful, I have something fragile in there!” he tells her) while Zuko walks side by side with Iroh to make sure he doesn’t slip on the steps. Iroh unlocks the door and the three of them shuffle inside. 

Zuko takes off his shoes and turns on a few lights while Azula drops his suitcase and starts to take off her own shoes. “Wow,” he says. “You’ve redecorated. The new couches look nice.”

“Thank you, I had help picking them out,” Iroh says.

Zuko walks over to the small table placed between two armchairs and smiles. “I see you wasted no time setting up for a game of Pai Sho. I have to warn you, I’m a little out of practice.”

“Oh,” Iroh says, surprised. “I must’ve forgotten to put it away. That was from the game I played with Sokka yesterday.”

The name that had been running through his mind, haunting his every move the second he landed in the airport, finally spoken out loud. He had tried to push the thoughts aside, to ignore them, but hearing his name now makes his breath catch in his throat. He feels the weight of their eyes on him as he continues to look at the board.

He tries to keep his face neutral and instead focus on the rest of Iroh’s sentence. “Oh. S— uh, he played Pai Sho with you yesterday?”

“Well of course, we play every Thursday,” Iroh says as if it is the most natural thing in the world to play a board game with the ex-boyfriend of your nephew while said nephew was living thousands of miles away. 

“I didn’t think you would keep doing that, after...” Zuko trails off, but the rest of his sentence hangs heavy in the air between them. 

He had been in such a good mood today. Seeing Uncle again had cleared all nerves he had about coming back home, and then the surprise from Azula made him even more thrilled. But he feels it all deflating rapidly, replaced with a hollow feeling in his chest.

“Oh, we did miss a week or two. But then he showed back up after that and we went back to it.” Iroh pauses, then adds, “He was more quiet, at first. But he came around.”

_ He moved on _ , Zuko thinks.

“Right.” Zuko takes a deep breath. “I think I’ll go and put my stuff in my room.”

Azula is watching him with a slight frown, but he looks away as he passes her.

“Have you talked to him recently, nephew?” Iroh asks. 

Zuko stops in his tracks, debating on lying, but then settling for, “If you’ve seen him every week, I have a feeling you already know the answer.”

“Zuko,” Azula starts, “You should call him. I’m sure he would like to see you while you’re in town.”

_ “At least you’ll be home for the winter break,” Sokka said after a long silence. _

_ Zuko closed his eyes and took a deep breath, grateful that Sokka couldn’t see his face.  _

_ “Babe?” Sokka asked when he didn’t say anything.  _

_ “My mom called me a few days ago. She wants me to visit her for the break. Azula, too. We said yes.” _

_ “What are you saying?” Sokka asked quickly. “Can’t you come here for a few days at least?” _

_ Zuko bit his lip. “It doesn’t look like it. I’m sorry, love.” _

_ Sokka was quiet for so long that Zuko checked to see if the call had dropped, then he finally took in a shaky breath. “What are we doing, Zuko?” _

_ “What do you mean?” _

_ “I’m saying— none of this is how we thought it would be. We hardly talk. Now we won’t see each other for months. This clearly...isn’t working like we hoped it would.” _

_ Zuko swallowed the lump in his throat, lying on his bed and staring at the ceiling, the phone pressed against his good ear. “So what should we do?” _

Zuko blinked and shook his head at his sister. “I doubt he wants to see me.”

“I’m not so sure about that,” Iroh says vaguely.

“Is that what you do while you play your game? Talk about me?” Zuko snaps, turning to look at Iroh again. 

Iroh shakes his head. “We don’t talk about you. And I won’t pretend to know him better than you, but I think he would be happy to see you again. You should talk to him.”

_ “Just talk to him, Zuko,” Toph groaned. “I can’t listen to another minute of how perfect his hair is.” _

_ “I was talking about his smile, pay attention,” Zuko poked her in the side and instantly dodged the punch thrown in his direction. _

_ Toph snorted. “My point still stands. Seriously, tell him how you feel, you two are acting like high schoolers, it’s sickening.” _

_ “We  _ are  _ high schoolers, Toph.” _

_ “Don’t remind me.” _

Zuko must not be good at keeping his emotions off his face, because his uncle is quiet for a few moments before walking over and resting his hand on Zuko’s arm. “Zuko,” he says softly. “I’m sorry if that upsets you, I thought you knew…”

“It’s fine,” Zuko answers sharply, then takes a deep breath. “Sorry. Really, it is fine, I just had no idea.”

Iroh nods. “I’m going to start on dinner. You’ve had a long day of traveling, why don’t you put your stuff away and maybe lie down for a few minutes?”

“I can help,” Zuko protests.

“I got it,” Azula tells him. “I’ll come get you when it’s done. If you don’t wake up by the time we have dessert, I’m eating all the mochi.”

Zuko offers her a tired smile. Iroh is right, it has been a long day, and lying down does sound appealing.

He grabs his luggage, ignoring the wheels to instead carry it down the hall before his uncle can say something about the carpet. Everything in the house looks so familiar, but also surreal, as if he’s dreaming about being back here. Azula’s door is shut, but his at the end of the hall is open slightly, waiting for him. 

He pushes it open, feeling like he is in the room of a stranger. It’s so clean and tidy, smelling like the candle that Iroh has set on the otherwise empty desk. As a young teeager, he had posters of bands and movies on the wall. As he grew older, they changed to pictures of his friends, drawings from Kiyi, his favorite poems that he copied down carefully then taped up to study. Now, they are bare of any sentimental reminders of his younger years. 

_ “What on earth…” _

_ Sokka looked up and gasped. He was sprawled on the floor, focused on the rubik’s cube he found in one of Zuko’s drawers while Zuko was taking down some old photos and replacing them with newer ones. “I almost forgot about that!” _

_ “You did this?” Zuko asked, squinting at Sokka’s handwriting. “‘I love you, Zuko’,” he read aloud, then looked over to raise his eyebrow at his boyfriend. “When did you do this?” _

_ “It was months ago, I slept over and when I woke up you were in the kitchen so I left you a note.” _

_ “In permanent marker? On my wall?” Zuko asked incredulously.  _

_ “It’s cute!” _

_ Zuko glanced over at him, at Sokka’s smile that screamed You Know You Love Me. He at least had the decency to look more sheepish the longer Zuko stared at him, but then Zuko snorted. He put down the picture that had been covering the note, placing its replacement above Sokka’s writing to keep it visible.  _

The room is dark, and Zuko holds his breath as he flips on the light switch. He’s not sure which would be worse: seeing the note again, or finding out that his uncle decided to clean it off or paint over it. He sees the scribbled line from the opposite side of the room as soon as the light illuminates it and lets out a sigh of relief, even despite the pang of longing reverberating throughout his body.

He sets his bag and suitcase on the bed with the intention of unpacking, but as soon as he unzips them he just stares at their contents, feeling very drained. He doubts he could get any sleep, though. Try as he might to distract himself with taking in his surroundings, his mind is still reeling from the thought of Sokka and Iroh still spending time together. 

He unlocks his phone and pulls up his text messages. He sends off a few obligatory “I made it home safely” texts. Aang responds almost immediately, attaching a picture of him and Katara beaming at the camera and “ _ Yay! We got here yesterday. We can’t wait to see you again!” _

Zuko smiles at the image. They are two of his closest friends, and he is thrilled to finally see them again, but his heart still clenches in his chest. He recognizes the background of the picture. They are in Sokka and Katara’s living room, where they have all spent countless game nights, watched dozens of movies. 

Zuko is searching Sokka’s name before he can stop himself, frowning when no results come up. 

Oh. That’s right. 

He searches _Boomerang Bae_ (Sokka’s doing, he never had the heart to change it) and clicks on their conversation. The last messages are Sokka wishing him a happy birthday back in October and Zuko replying with a “thank you”. He stares at them for a few moments. He’s tempted to scroll up, to look at other past conversations, but he has enough self control to not spiral down that path right now.

He taps on the screen to start a new message, biting his lip in contemplation before finally typing.

_ Motherfucker _

_ We broke up over a year ago why did I just find out you still play pai sho with uncle _

He hopes it doesn’t come off as too rude, but then again, it has been a long time since they had a conversation over text. Maybe Sokka has forgotten how to read Zuko’s tone via text messages. 

Before he can begin to overthink it, his phone vibrates with a new message and his heart jumps in his throat as he fumbles to open it.

_ real pai sho players know that just because you lost a fire lily doesn’t mean you need to give up on a white lotus _

Zuko stares at the text.  _ Fire lily _ . Sokka used to call him that all the time. 

_ “Fire lily?” Zuko repeated, pulling back from their hug to stare at Sokka incredulously. _

_ “Yeah, it’s perfect! Because it’s like, I’m not just calling you any ordinary flower, it’s a  _ fire  _ lily. It’s a little feisty. Like you are, sometimes.” _

He wonders if his name is still saved as _ Fire Lily <3 _ in Sokka’s phone.

Something like hope flickers in Zuko’s chest, but he quickly pushes it down before it can become anything more than a fleeting feeling. _Get_ __it_ together, Zuko. _

He stares at the phone screen until it goes black, then turns it back on to find the message still waiting for him. He stares and stares. Looks out the window. Throws his phone on his bed. Paces. Fiddles with the ring on his middle finger. Sighs. Picks up the phone again. Groans. 

He’s not sure if Sokka wants to see him. But he wants to see Sokka. He didn’t think about it too much while planning his trip home for the winter break. He assumed he would deal with these feelings  _ if  _ they ever came up, not  _ when _ . But now he can’t believe he ever doubted their arrival. Of  _ course  _ he wants to see Sokka. 

_ Where the fuck are you _ , he texts back, his fingers flying. He doesn’t check to see if there are any typos, doesn’t let his finger hover over the keyboard to say anything else, just hits send before he can second guess himself and throws it back on his bed. 

For a second, Zuko wonders if he could remember the drive to Sokka’s house, but he almost laughs at the thought. He knows the potholes on Sokka’s road almost as well as he knows the constellation of freckles on Sokka’s nose and on the back of his hands. The thought sends another ache of longing throughout his body. What if they’ve done construction since he was last here? What if the street that had been once so familiar is foreign, the house that used to be his second home belonging to someone who is now a stranger to him? 

Zuko’s thoughts snap back to the present as he hears his phone vibrate again. He could be just imagining it, but no, as he scrambles to pick up the phone he sees the screen lighting up. 

_ you know where.  _

Zuko blinks at the text, his mind racing for only a moment before it hits him. With shaking hands, he goes back to his luggage and finds the shoe box. He’s not sure if this is the right call, but...he’s also not sure if he’ll get another chance to do this. He peeks inside— nothing broken, not that he can tell. He sighs in relief, grabbing the handles of the plastic shopping bag he wrapped around the box and rushes out of his room. He barely has the brain capacity to remember to put his shoes back on before he’s out the door, pulling out his phone to text Azula that he’s going for a walk.

* * *

The duck pond down the street was a lot of things for them. Not many people visited it, just those in the neighborhood, so it was almost always deserted. It was quiet, had a peaceful feeling, and Zuko loved watching the ducks swim lazily through the water. They did homework on the bench sometimes. It was where they went to think. It was where they had their first kiss. 

(It was where they had their last fight.)

_ “I can’t just move to Sacramento with you, Zuko!” _

_ “Why not?” _

_ “Why— where do you want me to start? I don’t have the money to leave Alaska, I have my family, I have a scholarship to finish my bachelor’s here, I have my job. What does California have that I don’t have here?” _

_ “It’ll have me.” _

_ “That’s not...babe, that’s not what I meant, you  _ know  _ that’s not what I meant. I just don’t understand why you have to leave.” _

_ "It's a great school, I'll never get an opportunity like this again. I have to take it." _

_Sokka sighed. "And I have to take my shot here."_

_"I know," Zuko nodded. "Sorry, I wasn't thinking. I don't want you to leave so you can follow me. I just don't want to say goodbye."_

_"It's not a permanent goodbye. We'll be together again before we know it." Sokka squeezed his hand, a small smile on his lips. "_

Zuko is shivering by the time he reaches the duck pond. Sokka looks up from the frozen water when he hears Zuko’s footsteps on the snow. His expression is carefully blank, but then his lips twitch into a ghost of a smile and he shakes his head. 

“Some things never change,” he says, tossing the jacket in his arms toward Zuko once he’s close enough. 

Zuko catches it with his empty hand, startled as he stares at the fabric in his fingers. 

_ “You should take it with you. You might need it.” _

_ Zuko frowned. “I don’t know how much use I’ll get out of it in California.” _

_ “You never know. If anything, it’ll be something to remember me by.” _

_ “I don’t think I have space in my luggage with all the other ‘things to remember you by’,” Zuko reminded him. _

_ “I just...I don’t want you to get cold,” Sokka said, looking at the ground. _

_ “Hey,” Zuko said, waiting until he looked up. Sokka was biting his lip, and Zuko reached out to hold his hand. “I’ll look after myself. And don’t worry about me forgetting about you. I don’t think that’s possible.” _

Zuko places the bag in his hand on the bench to put on Sokka’s jacket, the same one he always stole from him. He’s not sure if his exposed fingers are shaking from nerves or from the cold. Either way, he buries them into the pockets of the jacket. It feels comfortable. Familiar. Warm. He takes a deep breath in through his nose, inhaling the scent of Sokka that he has missed for so long.

“Thank you,” he says. And then, before he can stop himself, “You’re wearing my hoodie.”

Sokka glances down at the faded logo of the high school theatre troupe, then looks back up with a smirk. “This hasn’t been ‘your hoodie’ in a long time.”

Zuko lets out a hesitant laugh at that, and Sokka joins him, breaking some of the tension between them before they fall into silence.

“How, uh, how is California?” Sokka asks, scratching the back of his neck, the other arm propping him up as he leans against the railing surrounding the pond. 

Zuko hides his smile in the jacket. Sokka  _ hates  _ small talk, but he’s trying, and it’s kind of amusing. “It’s good.” Another shiver runs through him. “Much warmer.”

In the past, Sokka might have wrapped an arm around him, pulled him close to his side, laughing at the fact that Zuko was so cold and yet he radiated warmth. But neither of them move to close the distance. Zuko mirrors him and leans against his forearms on the rail, a foot and a half of space between them. He glances over at Sokka and stares at the glow of the streetlamp on his features, the snow falling and landing in his hair. He looks away before he can be caught staring.

“How’s school?” he asks.

Sokka lights up. “It’s great!”

“Are you ready to graduate in a few months?”

He laughs. “Hell no. You?” 

Zuko shrugs. “Not really.”

“What’s next for you? Becoming some big shot writer?”

Zuko shakes his head. “I shifted my focus to teaching. High schoolers.”

“Really?” Zuko looks over to see Sokka’s eyebrows shoot up. “That’s great! I...didn’t know. When, uh, when did you decide that?”

“I think in my second semester in California, when I met Jet,” Zuko answers. 

Sokka’s expression suddenly closes off. “Oh. That’s...nice.”

Zuko blinks at the sudden change. “Yeah. He’s going into social work, but he told me a lot about some teachers he had in high school that really believed in him and helped him, and I talked to some others who are going into education and decided that was what I wanted to do.”

“Cool,” Sokka says. He coughs. “How long have you two been, uh, together?”

Zuko let’s out a sharp bark of laughter before he can stop it, and Sokka looks startled. “That’s not— sorry, that just threw me off. We’re not together, he was my roommate second semester and over the summer. But then he moved in with his boyfriend. We were never more than roommates. I haven’t...I haven’t dated anyone, not since...”

Zuko isn’t sure if he’s imagining it, or if Sokka looks relieved. “Right. Cool. Yeah. Me neither.”

Now it’s Zuko’s turn to feel relieved. Silence falls between them again before Sokka clears his throat.

“You’ll be great. I wish you were my English teacher in high school, maybe then I would’ve actually read the books.”

“I practically _was_ your English teacher in high school, remember?” Zuko smirks.

“Was that you?” Sokka taps his gloved fingers on his chin. “I could’ve sworn Leonardo Dicaprio was the one who helped me understand Romeo and Juliet.”

“And I was the one who spent twenty minutes analyzing the movie afterward,” Zuko reminds him.

“Oh yeah,” Sokka says. “I could never forget that.”

His smile is so fond that Zuko stops breathing for a moment, and he looks away. He feels some of the tension leave his shoulders. This was  _ Sokka _ , Sokka was his best friend before he was ever his boyfriend. They could go back to being best friends again, right?

“Thanks for keeping Uncle company,” he says quietly.

Sokka shrugs. “He kept me company, too. You left, Azula and Katara were still gone for school, so it was nice to play Pai Sho together and chat. He also apparently thinks I have good taste in furniture.”

“What? You— wait.” Realization dawns on Zuko. “You were the one who helped him choose out his new couches?”

“The one and only.” Sokka smiles apprehensively. “And helped him with the broken pipe in the basement, and changed the lightbulbs in the Jasmine Dragon, and taught him how to use FaceTime so he could videochat with you…”

Zuko blinks. Usually Zuko would have done those things. “Oh. I didn’t realize you did all that for him. That’s...thank you.”

Sokka shrugs. “It was no problem. He’s a kind guy, I like spending time with him. He’s surprisingly easy to talk to.”

Zuko senses the shift in Sokka’s mood before he even sees his shoulders tense. “You know, he was the one who told me you were coming home for the break.”

Zuko takes a deep breath. Holds it. Lets it out. “I’m sorry.”

Sokka doesn’t say anything, and Zuko waits until the silence is too much before he adds, “I should’ve texted you, told you I was coming, but I was just...scared.”

“ _ Scared _ _?_ Zuko, what happened to us? We used to be best friends, now we can’t even  _ text  _ each other?” he asks, tone sharp. 

“Sokka,” Zuko starts, turning to face him. Sokka does the same, but he doesn’t meet his eyes. 

“Did you just not want to see me, when it’s been over a year since we’ve last seen each other in person, and  _ months  _ since we’ve had a semi decent conversation?”

Zuko sighs and closes his eyes. “I don’t want to fight—“

“Then why  _ did _ you come here?” Sokka asks. “Why did you finally text me, why did you come to our pond, when you knew I would be here?”

Zuko opens his eyes. “I did want to see you. Honestly. I didn’t just lose my boyfriend when I moved away, I lost my closest friend. And I’ve made new friends, I’ve enjoyed college, but I’ve also just... _ really _ missed you.”

Sokka is quiet. “Not enough to text me, apparently.”

“Give me a break, Sokka, okay?” Zuko snaps, irritation flaring up inside him. “We tried long distance communication and it barely lasted three months! What did you expect me to do?”

Sokka scoffs and starts to turn away. “Forget it.”

Zuko let out a frustrated noise. “Fine! Run away from this.  _ Great  _ idea.”

“You’re the one who ran first, Zuko!” Sokka shouts, spinning on his heel and pointing an accusatory finger at Zuko. “ _ You _ were the one who was so desperate to get out of here, you packed your things and left me behind.”

Zuko pinches the bridge of his nose. “Are we back to making this about you? You know I didn’t want to say goodbye. You know it was never about us.”

“Then what was it about? Because I never understood that. We graduated together, we went to the same community college together, then I got the scholarship for Anchorage and you told me that you got a full ride to finish your degree somewhere in  _ California _ , of all places. And I was happy for you, and so proud, but suddenly the future that I thought we had together was taken away. And I still don’t understand why.”

Zuko takes a moment to breathe, calming himself down before he can snap at Sokka again. His thoughts are all over the place, everything he could never vocalize struggling to arrange itself into words. “Whenever I pictured our future together, it was never here. I wanted to move on, I wanted to travel, I wanted to get away from the town where my father...where he…” Zuko shuts his mouth, shaking his head. “You know what I mean. I wanted to leave all of that behind. I never wanted to leave you behind, and I never stopped to consider what you wanted. I'm...sorry."

“You never told me that,” Sokka says finally, looking pained. “ _ Why _ didn’t you ever tell me that?”

“I could hardly admit it to myself,” Zuko answers. 

“So instead you just showed up to my house one day, telling me you were going to California when I never knew you applied there in the first place.”

Zuko feels sick. These are the thoughts that kept him up for countless nights, but it is so much more painful to hear them spoken out loud. He just assumed Sokka would understand, but as soon as Zuko was gone he could hardly understand it himself.

After a minute of silence, Sokka continues, “Do you have any idea what it felt like to be in my shoes? I thought I wasn’t good enough for you to want to stay with me. I thought I wasn’t good enough for you to take time to talk with every day, even when we were so busy.”

“Sokka, of course you’re good enough, that’s not—“

“It doesn’t matter! Believe me, I tried desperately to remind myself that, to not take it personally. But it was so hard. I was so worried, all the time, that we wouldn’t last. And so it was easy, when we stopped talking all the time, to just go with it. I told myself that it would be easier to get it over with instead of dragging our relationship on for two years only for you to decide I still wasn’t enough.”

Zuko is quiet. “You should’ve talked to me.”

“Are we just going to keep pointing fingers all night? I’m not the best at talking about my feelings, Zuko!” Sokka scoffs. “You know that. We both do.”

“Well, you’re doing a fine job now, why don’t you tell me all about how  _ I’m  _ the one who ruined this relationship! I’m all ears,” Zuko snaps. 

Sokka’s glare hardens. “You’re such an asshole.”

He turns around and starts to walk away for the second time that night, and the breath escapes Zuko’s lungs in a rush. 

“Sokka,” he sighs, suddenly drained of the anger that had been flaring up inside. “Sokka, please.”

He hates when his temper gets the better of him, especially when it comes to people he cares about. He can’t remember the last time he raised his voice at Sokka, and guilt churns in his stomach.

Sokka keeps walking, his gloved fingers curled into fists at his side, and he wonders if this was how it felt when Sokka said goodbye to him at the airport and then watched him walk away. The thought brings with it a deep ache in his chest. 

“Sokka,” he says again. “Can we just—” 

He grabs him by the wrist and Sokka freezes, the rest of Zuko’s sentence dying in his throat. He turns to face Zuko, his expression still in a scowl, and he’s about to shake off Zuko’s hand when he stops. 

“You...you’re still wearing it,” Sokka says, all anger gone from him. 

Zuko follows his line of sight to see him staring at his ace ring. He opens his mouth to say something like  _ “yeah, Sokka, I may have changed in the last year and a half but last I checked I’m  still  asexual,” _ but he stops, remembering that  _ Sokka  _ was the one who gave him this ring. 

He could lie. Say that it wasn’t the same one Sokka gifted him. The ring was simple enough at first glance that he could pull it off, but they would both know it was a lie. Even in the light of the streetlamp, he can see the edges of the engraved phrase etched into it, the small “I love you” that is only visible if you know it’s there.

Zuko swallows. “Well, yeah, you gave it to me.”

_ “I love you for you, Zuko. I don’t want you to ever feel uncomfortable or like you’re not enough for me, because that couldn’t be further from the truth. I...I did some research, got you this ring. You don’t have to wear it if you don’t want— mmph.” _

_ Sokka was cut off by Zuko throwing himself at his boyfriend, hugging him tightly before pulling back to give him a quick kiss. _

_ “Thank you, Sokka.” _

Zuko opens his mouth again, but suddenly his throat is very tight, and tears sting his eyes. He lets go of Sokka’s wrist and turns his back on him, slumping against the railing and putting his head in his hands. 

Part of him is expecting to hear the sound of Sokka’s footsteps on the snow, walking away, but it doesn’t come. Sokka stands there, frozen, as Zuko tries to not burst into tears in front of his ex-boyfriend. He finally takes in a shaky breath and turns around. 

“I’m sorry. I didn’t want us to fight. I wanted to see you again, but you don’t...you don’t owe me anything. You don’t have to see me anymore while I’m here, if you don’t want to. I just wanted to give you this.”

He walks back to the bench and grabs the bag, taking out the box. Sokka’s distressed expression turns to confusion as he hears the rattling inside. The shoebox is old, duct tape wrapped all around the sides to keep it sturdy. He had hoped to put the contents in something nicer before giving them to Sokka, but he wasn’t sure how tonight would go and decided to take his chances. 

He holds it out to Sokka, who takes it, careful not to move it too much as he lifts the lid. He’s completely silent as he sees its contents, staring at it for several long moments. 

_ “You have so many books,” Sokka muttered, staring at the piles that Zuko was dividing into books he was taking with him and the ones he was leaving with his Uncle. _

_ “This is nothing, one day I want to have a huge collection of books. A whole room dedicated to my library.” _

_ “Hang on, I want my own private room of...something. I’ll find something to collect, just to have one.” _

_ “What about all those shells you get at the beach?” Zuko laughed. “You probably have enough by now to start a decent collection.”  _

“They’re seashells,” Zuko says after the silence becomes unbearable. 

“I can see that,” Sokka says, almost whispers. He picks up one, admires it, then looks at another. “They’re beautiful.”

“They reminded me of you,” Zuko says, the words rushing out of him before he can change his mind. “One of my first weekends there, I went to the beach with some people on my apartment floor. I told them that I wanted to pick up some seashells for my...for you, and they helped me find the best ones. I only went to the beach a few times after that, but every time I made sure to get you some more shells. Even after we broke up, I kept going. I didn’t know when I would get the chance to see you again, but I never threw the box away.”

Sokka is still staring at the seashells in complete shock. 

“Why?” he asks. 

Zuko blinks. “Why what?”

“Why did...why did you collect seashells for me, even though we broke up, why did you hold onto them, why did you text me tonight, why did you give them to me, why are you here with me?” Sokka lists off. 

He’s looking for a specific answer. He knows it and Sokka knows it. There can only be one thing to explain it all, one reason that fits every question he has. 

“Because I love you, Sokka,” Zuko answers quietly. “Before we got together, I loved you, when we were dating, I loved you, and after we broke up, I continued to love you. We couldn’t work out long distance, but I couldn’t move on from you. I didn’t want to, and it would be impossible. No one compares to you, no one else could be right for me.”

It’s nothing like the romcoms that Sokka forced him to watch once upon a time. Zuko is sniffling from the cold, he’s crying more than he would like to, the street lamp isn’t the most flattering lighting in the world, and they’re next to a frozen pond on a December evening in Alaska, of all places.

But at least he said it, at least it’s out there. Sokka knows how he feels. It’s almost as scary as when he told Sokka how he felt back in high school.

He turns back to face the pond. He’s freezing, but he’ll wait until Sokka is gone to walk back home. He hopes Azula and Uncle are still busy in the kitchen, maybe he’ll be able to sneak back to his room and they’ll have no idea that he’s— 

“I love you too.”

Zuko doesn’t move, doesn’t breathe for a moment, sure that he misheard, or that it was just his imagination. “What?”

“I love you too,” Sokka repeats. “I— of course I do, Zuko. I’ve missed you so much. I don’t think I ever stopped loving you. I don’t think I ever will.”

Zuko puts his head in his hands. “I’m so sorry—“

“For what?” Sokka asks, gently. He comes to stand right next to Zuko, their shoulders brushing. 

“This is all...if I hadn’t left...”

“Listen, I’m not going to lie and say it didn’t suck. But Zuko, neither of us could’ve known what was going to happen.”

“I just...not having you with me was so much worse than I imagined. Texting you, calling you, even if I saw your face...it was different. I was so worried you would get tired of it, tired of me. And then I couldn’t come home for the break, and I felt like I had shattered what little we had left…” 

Sokka wraps an arm around Zuko. “Is this okay?” he asks, and when Zuko nods he pulls him in closer. Zuko instantly relaxes in his arms, fitting back into his side like it was where he belonged, the feeling of being close to Sokka warming him up from the inside out.

“Long distance relationships are hard. We were no exception. And that’s okay. We can still...I still want us to be friends, at least.”

Zuko takes a deep breath. “What if I come back home?”

Sokka shifts until they’re looking each other in the eye. “What do you mean? You still have to graduate—“

“I know, but after that? What if I move back here in the summer, get my teaching license in Alaska, or maybe look into grad school. I could...we could…”

“Zuko,” Sokka starts, looking pained, “I don’t want to be the thing that drags you back if you’re not going to be happy here.”

Zuko takes a deep breath. “I thought leaving would make me happy, but I was so wrong. Some days I missed home so much that I was miserable. And as we were driving through town today, I hardly thought of my father. I didn’t glance at the neighborhood where he used to live. The hospital I was in after I got my scar is now just the hospital that I drove you to after you broke your leg. I was thinking of you the whole time. You changed this place, changed my life, for the better. I realized how much I missed being here, and I couldn’t believe I ever wanted to leave. 

"And being here with Uncle, wondering what he would do without you to help him out...He encouraged me to leave, but I don't know how much time I have left with him, I want to be here for him more. So I think...I’m ready to come back.”

Sokka stares at him, eyes wide. “Don’t say that if you don’t mean it, Zuko. I need you to mean it.”

“I’ve thought about it a lot, since we broke up. I’m sure of it. I want to come home, to Anchorage, to you. I’m sorry it took leaving for me to realize I wanted to stay.” 

Sokka blinks at him in shock, but then a smile breaks through, bright and wide and beautiful as ever. His eyes light up with the glint he only gets when he’s doing something he loves, like explaining a complicated equation to someone or teaching Zuko a new phrase in Inuktitut.

“I want you to come home,” Sokka says.

“Okay. I will. If you’re sure, if you’ll still have me, I’ll come back,” Zuko tells him, his own grin so wide it hurts his cheeks.

“If I’ll— of course I’ll have you. Babe, you’re absolutely the love of my life, you know that, right?” Sokka asks with a smirk.

“Yeah. I know. And you’re mine,” Zuko says softly. His hand finds Sokka’s cheek and he takes a deep breath. “Can I—?”

“Yes.”

It’s chaste, and short-lived, but their first kiss in over a year seems to slot something back into place that he hadn’t realized he had been missing. Zuko pulls away and takes a deep breath, feeling his anxiety from the day settle, replaced by a nearly overwhelming sense of peace.

“Thank you,” he whispers.

“That wasn’t even the best kiss I can do,” Sokka teases.

Zuko rolls his eyes. “You know what I mean. Thank you for everything.” A new wave of guilt washes over him and he bites his lip. “I’m so sorry th—”

“Nope.” Sokka places a finger on Zuko’s lips, effectively shutting him up. “I think we’ve done enough apologizing for the night. We’ll work through it, yeah? But now let’s just be glad that’s behind us. We should get out of the cold, I’m surprised you lasted this long already.”

“We could go to my...oh, oh no.” Zuko groans. “Azula and Uncle are never going to stop teasing me about this.” 

“Hey, it’s either we face them or Aang, Katara, and my dads,” Sokka points out, smiling. “Your choice.”

“Can I choose hypothermia?” Zuko asks with a sniff.

Sokka snorts. “Tempting, but no.”

“We could sneak in through my window again. They’ll have no idea,” Zuko suggests.

_ Zuko grabbed Sokka’s hand to help him step out of the window and onto the carpet, catching him by the waist to steady him. _

_ “Thank you for coming,” Zuko whispered. _

_ “Of course,” Sokka said, wrapping him into a hug.  _

_ Zuko had a hard time sleeping, especially on days after hearing anything from his father in prison. As soon as he texted Sokka, his boyfriend left his house to be with him. _

_ Zuko pulled him into the bed, wrapping his arm around Sokka’s waist tightly to hold him close once they were under the covers. Sokka’s presence was warm, and familiar, and comforting. Zuko felt himself relax even more when Sokka started running his fingers through his hair. The last thought he had before falling asleep was that he wouldn’t mind ending every day like this for the rest of his life. _

Sokka laughs. “Yeah, turns out, we weren’t as sneaky as we thought. Iroh knew about those nights.”

Zuko’s huff of laughter fogs up in the air between them. “Of course he did. Alright, let’s just get it over with. On the bright side, dinner should be done by now.”

Zuko’s fingers are too cold to hold hands with Sokka, but they loop their arms together and stuff their hands into their pockets, leaning against each other as they make the walk to the house. Sokka has the bag tucked under his other arm, the soft rattling of the shells as they walk filling the comfortable silence. The snow is falling thicker now, the only movement in the otherwise still street. It feels surreal, as if the whole world has stopped, everything holding its breath just for the two of them.

The house smells delicious when they walk in, the warmth washing over them as they close the door behind them and put their shoes away. Zuko shoots Sokka a look and he smiles back encouragingly, taking off his gloves and grabbing Zuko’s hand as they hear Azula call out, “Zuko? Are you back? About time, we were going to—”

Azula freezes as she walks out of the kitchen and into the living room, looking from Zuko to Sokka and to their joined hands. “Wait,” she says, eyes going wide. “Don’t let Uncle—”

“I knew it,” Iroh interrupts, smiling proudly at the couple and then patting his niece on the shoulder. “So, about those games of Pai Sho you now owe me…”

Azula sighs. “You couldn’t have waited a few more days?” she mutters.

“Did you want me to mope around the house for a few more days?” Zuko asks, raising his eyebrows.

Azula seems to seriously consider it, but then shakes her head. “I guess not. I’m glad you two idiots finally sorted it out.”

“So am I,” Iroh chuckles, turning back to the kitchen.

“Yeah,” Zuko says, squeezing Sokka’s hand. “So am I.”

**Author's Note:**

> [tumblr](https://bisexuallsokka.tumblr.com/)!


End file.
